Rich Jandt Adventure #3

This is an adventure that I had over the course of a few years. All facts are true, and not embellished.

It started with a random drive out of Portland. Andrew, Ryan, Tim, and myself (and mabey Justin) ended up getting this plan in our heads that we were going to the base of Bridal Veil Falls. When we turned off the highway the first thing we encountered was a smallish cemetery.

It was located next to a house, that was currently lived in. And I don't mean it was in the lot next to a lot with a house, I mean it was directly next to a house. The graves were well taken care of, but you could tell that they had been there for a while. They were worn, grey headstones.

The next thing we came across was a small square building that had the word Post Office Painted on it. It was an older building, about 20 foot by 20 foot. Posted on the building was the hours of operation, which listed it being open for two hours three times a week. The parking lot around the building was huge, probably a couple hundred feet long and all gravel, with the Post Office sitting at an odd angle to the main road.

We got out of the parking lot and drove up a series of switch-backs. One both sides of the road up the hill were houses, that had blackberry bushes growing over and through them. We pulled into the drive way of one of them, and got out of the car. Inside of the obviously long abandoned houses we found furniture such as couches area rugs and dressers. It seemed like all of the houses were about the same age, and all had been abandoned at a similar time.

Following the twisty road farther up the hill we found a small turn out, with a red post covered with Asian letters. I have no idea what language, or what it said. It was really out of place though. This would become our base camp. We piled out of the car once again and got ready for our summit.

As I looked up to the base of the falls I saw what appeared to be a u shaped ravine. On the bottom near the sides was lush green Forrest, with trees and ferns growing over every square inch. Near the middle was a small stream, completely lined with blackberry bushes and stinging needles. Pretty much Endor like environment.

Knowing that this was going to be like forging a path through jungle like conditions we had come prepared. From a recent trip to the army surplus store I had bought new combat boots and a machete. I was also wearing a thick sweatshirt, and charheart overalls. The rest of the crew were wearing similar clothing.

As we started our assent, we had to make a choice of either a steeper climb on the outside, or a very wet and cold climb going up the stream. For the most part I was able to withstand the water and stayed to the middle of the ravine. A couple of hundred feet up the hill we came across a square cement building straddling the river. Inside of the building was a dozen bleach bottles, and nothing else. It was a complete mystery.

Farther along came the creepiest thing of the entire trip. On the side of the steam was a grave. Not like the graves in the graveyard, but a small wooden cross. I can't remember the dates on the cross, but it seemed to freak me out. Like there was something wrong with what was written on it. I wanted to dig it up, however I was not allowed to. It seems that my friends have a slightly different set of morals.

After being pulled away from the site, we finished our climb. By the top I was completely covered with mud, and soaked to the bone. However at the top we found a treasure trove of smooth rocks and other cool stuff that had fallen off of the falls. To this day I still have a piece of obsidian that I found in that pile. Looking down on the ravine I was able to make out our arduous trail up, and was amazed at the tenacity it had taken. At one point I had stuck my hands into the mud walls and made my own holds just to climb.

The climb down had not been much easier. I decided that I would just scoot down the stream since I was already covered with mud and water. As I passed that spot with the cross I vowed that I would return, and solve the Mystery of the small grave.

Years passed, I moved to Canada, graduated from college, moved back to Seattle, started to work for the Government. One night I told this tale to my friends Canoe and Alex. They did not believe it, and I wanted to solve that mystery anyway, so we headed down to the ghost town early the next morning.

As I took the exit for Bridal Veil, I noticed that the House that had been next to the graveyard seemed abandoned. The post office was also gone. Up the switch backs no houses were there, the blackberry bushes gone. Even the cement foundations of the houses were gone. The only way I knew we were in the right place was the small red post with the Asian letters on it.

I parked in the same spot I had at least 5 years earlier, and we started our trek. I got a serious feeling of De'ja vu looking up the hill. The cement building was still standing, still filled with bleach bottles. Once we left the site of the building I knew what was next.

I had come with a shovel, and a camera to record my excavation. After looking for what seemed like forever, I am finally certain that the part of the bank that concealed the grave had been washed away. It was gone. I dug at the edge of the bank, but found nothing. The mystery grave was not there anymore. The second assent was glorious. At the base of the falls when I looked back the view was completely different. I could see the river, and most of the hill down. I bet that sight made me feel the same way that Lewis and Clark felt on their first sighting of the Columbia river.